


Things We Lost to the Flames

by MarkedMage



Series: Seasons [3]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula (Avatar)-centric, Background Zutara, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Multi, azula/oc - Freeform, can be read as a Standalone fic, part three, seasons universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25779052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarkedMage/pseuds/MarkedMage
Summary: Love is a weakness, her father tells her. Katara is here to prove him wrong.Select moments set after chapter three of 'make sense of all my broken parts', told in Azula's POV
Relationships: Azula & Katara (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Seasons [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817968
Comments: 25
Kudos: 124





	Things We Lost to the Flames

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys, here is the much anticipated part three of the Seasons universe, a peek into Azula's life following the war. This is not set anytime after 'tear in my heart', so you don't have to read that ahead of time if you wanna read this. Techincally this could be read as a standalone fic, so if you're a new reader, here is my take on what happens to Azula and Zutara following the war.
> 
> Title from "Things We Lost in the Fire" by Bastille.
> 
> Rated M for some language and emotional trauma.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought. Kudos and comments are much appreciated, and make this lil writer's heart burst with joy.

_~ The future's in our hands and we will never be the same again ~_

_Things We Lost in the Fire | Bastille_

~0~

They call her a monster. It's the last, and most important thing Azula remembers before going under. A flash of blue, an agonized scream, and a man draped in red, telling a girl wreathed in blue ice, _that girl is a monster._

These are the things Azula knows, and it's linked to what she can perceive, in the taste and touch and sight she possesses. Her father had always taught her the importance of observation, and how the slightest detail could be the cause of victory or failure. And so Azula watched, and listened, and tasted for blood in each waking moment, her vision tainted red and her soul yearning to please.

Her mother's hair is dark brown, her eyes as gold as the sun. Her father's eyes burn with the fires of hell, and when he smiles, he reminds Azula of a ghoul, face contorted in a ghastly facade of happiness. Zuko, however, is the enigma of the family. Azula remembers Zuko like this: a boy wreathed in sunlight, unblemished skin, rosy and plump, bright golden eyes, a soft hand holding hers. A cry of _Zu-Zu,_ the smell of woodsmoke and spice clinging to his robes. And later, a boy, scarred and pained, the anger in his eyes rivaling his father's. Gouts of scarlet and blue flame. Soft eyes, an agonized cry, and statues of ice bursting into the sky. A starburst painted across skin, soft blue eyes, and a girl, her hand resting softly on Zuko's shoulder.

Maybe her father would be proud. Azula, broken and bloody, falling into the unknown, but she wonders, struggling, blood bubbling at her lips, if her skills of observation would be enough. Enough that she saw her own descent into madness, her brother's rise to greatness. How she saw a girl of blue water rise, a flash of determination in her eyes, and her brother's heart, beating to life once more for the sake of the Water Tribe.

But the darkness rises, enveloping her in a warm cocoon of inky black, and she surrenders, the image of Zuko standing above her burned into the back of her mind. The darkness takes her, and what Azula knows doesn't really matter anymore.

~0~

In her dreams, Azula is the Firelord, and she is happy. Zuko is her general, a proud sentinel at her side, her glorious sword and shield, and Mai, a beautiful, shape, deadly weapon at his side. Ty Lee is there, hovering over her throne, and somewhere in the distance, she sees her mother, eyes warm and lips curled in a smile. _I love you, Azula,_ and this time, Azula believes it.

She's married to a boy named Ruon-Jian, and Azula distinctly remember a kiss on the beach, a fleeting touch of lips and the sear of _something_ on her heart. The first time in years she truly felt content? Azula feels the sliver of a memory, a feeling, a _reality,_ but it slips from her fingers, and she doesn't have the heart to chase after it.

There's a tugging on the corner of her subconscious, too insistent to ignore. Azula stands from her throne, but no one follows, and she follows the pull, until she's outside. There, a girl with blazing blue eyes meets her, and her hands are drenched in blood. Azula frowns, reaching out, but her hands pass through the girl as easily as if she were made of water. With a start, Azula realizes that she _is_ , and the girl collapses into a puddle of blue blue water. 

"Azula?" A voice says, and she turns, meeting Zuko's gentle gaze. Azula studies her brother, noting the smooth skin of his face, symmetrical and regal in its nobility. He reaches out, cupping her cheek, and there's spice and smoke on his skin. "Come home." 

There's a tugging on her subconscious again, faint and barely there, but still present nonetheless. Any other person would have glossed over it as if it didn't exist, but Azula's powers of perception grasp it. She looks at Zuko, stares at the warm honey of his gaze, and that _thing_ tugs again. But then Mai is there, and Ty Lee, and her mother. Then her father is there, and he's looking at her with such a warm fondness that makes her heart melt.

 _My beautiful daughter,_ he says, enveloping her in a hug. _My brave Firelord. I am so proud of you._

A part of Azula whispers that this isn't real, that her father would never look at her like this. Pride maybe, greed for sure, but never with warmth. Azula may love her father, but she knows without a doubt, that her father sees her more as a tool than anything else. Not that she minds, she's desperate to be useful, even if it means giving up some of her family's love in the process. 

All these thoughts run through her mind, even as the _thing_ tugs on her mind. But Azula finds that the pull of her father's love is too great, the pull of her mother's pride and Zuko's companionship too much, and so she follows, putting her hand in her father's.

Her skills of observation tell her this isn't real. But for once, Azula finds she doesn't have the strength to hold on, and she lets herself sink into this world of happiness and contentment. Then, she thinks, she forgets why she even hesitated in the first place.

The tugging weakness, and Azula doesn't care.

The dream continues, pulling Azula deeper and deeper in, swirling around her until she's not sure what's real or not. At some point, the dream changes, as fluid as a river, and she finds herself in the palace courtyard, dressed for an Agni Kai. She expects to see some Fire Nation nobleman, or some civilian firebenders, but it's her brother standing before her, blood pooling from his mouth, scars scored across his face and chest, and his hand reaches for her, bloody, broken, and he cries. _Why, Azula,_ he seems to say. _Why have you forsaken me?_

 _This is wrong,_ she wants to cry, even as her body goes through the motions, lighting bursting from her fingertips. _You were supposed to love me!_

The lightning erupts from her fingers, and she sees the life flickering in her brother's eyes, his inner flame sparking weakly against the might of her own. And then there's a girl, whose name is on the tip of Azula's tongue, wielding water as a weapon and striking her at her core. Azula bursts into a fountain of ice, and she watches Zuko embrace a girl with blue eyes, who is _not_ Mai _,_ and suddenly nothing makes sense. Why is she losing? Why is she in chains? Where is her loving father and living mother? Why is Zuko scarred?

These are the questions Azula cannot answer. No powers of perception, no keen sense of observation, nothing is at her fingertips that can help her make sense of what is going on. Dreams or reality? She wonders, as her sight goes black. Dreams or reality?

She's floating in a sea of black night, and she wonders if she's even alive; she can't feel her fingers or move her head. But when she flicks her eyes downward, she can see her limbs, pale, limp skin that refuse to move no matter how much she wills it.

 _Was it worth it_? A voice asks her, and she tries vainly to turn her head, seek the source. She can't, but she relies on her other senses to try and figure out who, what, where this voice is coming from.

 _Giving it all up,_ the voice muses, in a voice that sounds startingly like her own. _Striking poor Zuko down, breaking Katara's heart._

"I don't even know who Katara is," she spits, but the voice laughs, and suddenly, there's a fierce pain scorching across her left cheek, burning across her heart. She screeches, trying in vain to wriggle away from the heat, but she can't move. 

_You're a monster_ , her mother's voice whispers. 

_A failure,_ says her father's. 

_Why did you kill me?_ Zuko cries.

Azula wants to curl into a ball, huddle in Zuko's warmth like they did when they were kids. She wants to cuddle under her sheets, listening to her mother's storytelling by the flicker of a candlelight, and she wants to be young again, watching the pride in her father's eyes when she bends for the first time, whispering _you did well._

Instead, what she gets is a vision of the girl draped in blue, blue eyes narrowed to icy daggers, and in her hand she wields a knife of frozen glass. In the other, rests a beating heart, still dripping with blood, still pumping life without a body. The girl's eyes frown when they look at Azula, and she wants, yearns to run away, but her body is frozen in time.

 _You brought this upon yourself,_ the girl murmurs, eyes flashing. _Spirits help you now._

Azula wants to cry, wants to scream and thrash, show the world that she is alive, and worth living. But she cannot move, cannot speak, and all she wants now is to be a little girl, with a loving mother and loving father, with a brother who isn't broken. 

The girl reaches out, a soft hand cradling Azula's cheek, and she finds that the girl's touch is as soft as the feathers of a sparrowkeet, cool like rushing water, and the blue of her eyes reminds Azula of her flames. 

_Zuko's alive today because of me,_ the girl whispers. Her eyes flash, and her fingers dig into Azula's cheeks, hard enough for it to hurt, for it to _feel. And so are you._

There's a bright flash of light that sears across Azula's consciousness, like a knife, tearing apart the darkness and pulling her into the unknown. She gasps, hands flying to her eyes, and she's got the sudden realization that she can _feel_ again, and the thought makes a choked cry fly from her lips. And then she's blinking away the light, and the girl wreathed in blue is standing before her, eyes like cut glass, and Azula drags in lungfuls of sharp, clean air.

"Zu-Zu," she cries, because her brother is the only thing that matters. Memories fly in, sharp and vivid, and she remembers the lighting cutting across the sky, headed for this girl of water, and her brother dancing in the air, lightning lighting up his veins. _Is he alright, is he hurt?_ A part of her murmurs, at the exact same time another part cries, _finish them off!_

She collapses, falling against the weight of the couch at her back, and her senses slowly return, hesitant and unsure, but she grips at the strings of her consciousness and pulls each one back to her.

Touch comes first. The soft leather of the couch under her fingers, the coarseness of the robe sitting heavily on her shoulders. The brush of air, fresh, vibrant air, sucked in through her nostrils, out through her mouth.

A girl's voice comes next, a soft murmur of _Azula._ It's smooth, gentle, and reminds her so much of her mother, in the way it tugs at her heartstrings and soothes her fragile state.

Jasmine. Ginseng. The smell of fresh water on the air. There's a chill to the air, a sharpness that stings at her nostrils, a damp chill. It's winter.

And finally, sight comes, slipping back into her on a sharp intake of breath. Light, harsh and stinging, curls at her eyelashes and sears her retina, and she winces, a low cough coming out of her throat. Gradually, the light fades, and Azula is able to make out the walls of the room that holds her, the white walls, the empty bed, the vase holding the single tigerlily. And the girl, the one wreathed in blue ice, a pendant dangling at her throat and water condensing at her fingertips.

What's her name? _Katara._

The girl frowns, one hand stretched forward, encased in armor of water. Her brows furrow, blue eyes sharp with intelligence, and her lips purse in concentration. 

"Azula?" The girl says, frowning. "Take it easy now, you've been-"

Azula doesn't give Katara time to finish her sentence, and strikes, hard and fast, like a windviper. She sees Katara's eyes widen, a flash of fear in those ocean blue eyes, and a part of her sings at the chaos. _Burn them all._

A sharp pain slices through her, stealing her breath from her chest and she cries out. Ice sprouts out from her chest, exploding along her ribs and pinning her limbs down.The ice freezes Azula's bared skin, biting tendrils of frozen anger ripping at her. Azula yells, collapsing, and Katara rushes over, hands still gloved in water.

_The girl that hurts and heals, all in one breath._

"You idiot," Katara is seething, kneeling down, one hand clenched in a fist, keeping Azula pinned. Her eyes are fierce, burning with a fire that reminds Azula of Zuko. "There you go, just like your idiot brother. You're too weak to do anything, much less fight me."

Somehow, Azula finds the words. "Leave me alone," she hisses, and her voice is cracked, musty and rough with disuse. She glares up at the water girl, and hates the anger she sees reflected back at her. They're not mirrors of each other. They could never be. They _can't_.

Katara's eyes soften, and she opens her mouth to speak again. Whatever she means to say is lost on Azula, who goes limp, and she surrenders to the darkness once more, begging and praying for a sweet dream, one that she won't have to wake from ever again.

Reality is too cruel for her to bear anymore. Especially alone.

~0~

When she wakes, there's sunlight streaming in through her window, and her eyes immediately follow the little specks of dust flying lazily through the air. She follows the little specks, noting how alive and vibrant as it dances through the sunbeams. It's quiet, except for the constant drone of Azula's heartbeat ringing in her ears, her only reminder that she is alive and breathing.

Azula lies in the uncomfortable bed, draped in sheets that smell like antiseptic and not the sweet spice of her room, and wishes she could be like the dust, carefree and immortal, forever dancing through the air on drafts of wind and sunlight. 

There's a knock on her door, and she lifts her head wearily as a guard walks in. She stiffens, half prepared for the shackles to go on her wrists, for blood to be spilt, but the guard says nothing, just drops a tray of food on her table. He leaves, as quickly as he came, and she is left alone with nothing but the dust for company.

She forces herself to get up, to wander over to where the food entices her. It's only when she stumbles does she notice the frailty of her body, withered limbs and skinny bones where once healthy muscle lay, like iron on her skin. She frowns, running her fingers over her stomach, counting each rib. 

How much time had passed? It's amazing what time can do to the body, eating away at her mind and flesh. How long was she trapped in this prison, this shell her once-strong body used to be? How long had she been a prisoner to her own broken mind?

She staggers over to the couch, slumping onto it and reaching for the food. She has a bowl of rice, a small plate of Komodo chicken, slathered in sauce, and a small sample of fireflakes.

Fireflakes. Zuko's favorite. She never really cared for them, but they're the first thing she reaches for, her trembling fingers taking a small mouthful and bringing it to her lips. The flavor hits her tongue, strong and intense. A lesser person would've gagged and coughed, overwhelmed by the spice and heat, but to Azula, it tastes like home.

(Not home, but _home._ Home is when she was younger, crying out _Zu-Zu_ down the halls, before the world fell into chaos and Azula didn't know up from down.)

A quiet cough startles her from her thoughts, and she looks towards the door. The waterbender is there, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, but Azula's sharp eyes catch the waterskin at her hip.

It's uncorked.

"Azula," the girl says. Her eyes land on the fireflakes in Azula's hands, and soften slightly. "Fireflakes. They're your brother's favorite, you know."

Azula turns away, setting the bowl down. The girl steps forward, body tense and ready to move at the slightest hint of aggression. "Azula, do you know who I am? It's Katara."

Oh, Azula is well aware. She pictures manacles at her wrists, frozen in a sheath of ice, a boy diving in front of a lightning beam headed for a sea of blue. She knows who Katara is, but she will not be anything but the _waterbender_ in Azula's eyes.

Father taught her that respect isn't something you're born with. Respect is something you earn, through blood and bone and the sweat on your brow. Azula has beaten lesser cowards, the waterbender is no better. 

( _Burn them,_ Father would say. _Burn them, and if ash remains, then that is respect earned.)_

Zuko was burned. Father ripped half his face away, and still, he lives. Azula doesn't know if he earned Father's respect, or if he was kept alive as a fool, but then again, what Azula knows doesn't matter.

The waterbender sighs, plopping down on the couch next to Azula. Azula frowns, returning to the present, abd studies the girl, without really studying her, relying on instinct that's been ingrained in her to watch, and to listen.

"Do you remember anything?" Katara asks, eyes narrowed. Azula blinks, noting the tension in the girl's hands, the tremor in her body. Is she afraid? Azula wonders, but there's a hard glint in the waterbender's eyes, a darkness that somehow tugs at Azula's heart, crooning at the darkness that lingers there.

Azula shakes her head.

Katara frowns, and inches closer. "After we fought," she murmurs. "You went into a comatose state. Didn't move, didn't speak, we had to force feed you food and water to keep you alive. Zuko almost lost hope for you."

Azula stirs slightly at that, a brief spark igniting at the mention of her brother, the one she burned to keep the throne. Katara catches on, noting Azula's spark, and narrows her eyes. "I saved him," she snaps, and the fire in her eyes interests Azula. Fire that burns like that, she realizes, is distinctly Fire Nation.

"You should have been left to rot," the girl whispers, a dark cloud pooling in her words and hovering ominously over Azula's soul. She frowns, noting the dark intensity in the waterbender's words, the harshness in her eyes. There's a darkness in Katara's soul, a darkness she never thought would taint someone as _good_ as her, but Azula lifts her gaze and looks deep in Katara's soul, she sees it, black, harsh, obscurity pooling in her eyes.

She'd know that look. She'd know it anywhere. It's the same look in her eyes, the same darkness in her soul. Katara has killed people before. 

"I wanted you to die," the waterbender confesses. "You hurt my best friend, you nearly killed me. You hunted us down to all corners of the world, killing mercilessly from left to right. You deserve to die."

"Then why didn't you?" Azula spits, no longer able to keep quiet. "Why'd you save me?"

Katara pauses, and in that moment, Azula strikes. A burst of flame erupts from her palm, smaller and slighter than she'd like, but Azula is nothing but adaptive to her surroundings, and she pushes hard, throwing her body forward, eyes burning, yearning to tear the waterbender's throat-

Katara's eyes are deep blue, like the ocean around Ember Island. Like chips of ice, swirling with the screams of the dead, blood pooling in their azure depths. The only reason why Azula makes note of this insignificant feature is that they are piercing, and they grip onto Azula, freezing her in her tracks, a cold grip on her heart. Azula does not gasp, although she does feel the breath leave her body, and her flame dies.

"Please," the waterbender hisses, standing up. Her eyes narrow, and Azula now spies her clenched fist. The air condenses, and suddenly Azula is finding it hard to breathe, crystals forming in her lungs. She's frozen, unable to move, unable to bend, and the waterbender steps right past. "You couldn't fight me in your state even if you tried. You may be a prodigy, Azula, but you and I both know who put you in those chains." She leans in close, and Azula feels a tremor shivering it's way down her spine.

Is this fear? Is this what it looks like? Azula's never felt fear before, this strange coldness settling on her bones like a weighted blanket, holding her tight in its grasp.

( _Love is a weakness_ , her father once said, sneering it into a living tumor onto her brain. _And so is fear. Take note, children. If you have fear, you are weak. And you are no child of mine.)_

The waterbender curls her lip, and Azula thinks she looks very much like how she'd look, if their positions were reversed. "I healed you," she murmurs. Her fist clenches, and Azula feels the tightening on her heart. It doesn't hurt, but the threat is clear. "And I can hurt you too."

The Water Tribe girl retreats, heading for the door, and the iron lock on Azula's heart fades, until she falls, gasping, back onto the couch. The door slams, and the icy grip remains. 

It's only then, does Azula realizes that there are frozen tears on her cheeks.

~0~

The nightmare grips her hard in its fist. She writhes in a sea of darkness. The memory of Zuko, entangled in lightning, suspended in time, plays over and over before her, and she watches herself, mad with anger and grief, kill him, again and again.

 _No,_ she cries, tears flooding from her eyes, reaching out, trying to get to him. _I didn't want this!_

There's blood pouring out of Zuko's ruined eyes, his mouth, his chest. He smiles a bloody smiles, hand reaching out, and his voice whispers, _Why did you kill me, Azula?_

 _I didn't,_ she screams. _The waterbender healed you!_

And then she sees Katara, bloodied and broken, and it's her, driving her flame-powered fist through the waterbender's chest. Wide blue eyes, dull and unseeing, a limp hand reaching for an empty waterskin.

And then there's Mai, and Ty Lee, and Ursa, all standing before her, and it's her who kills them. Mai goes first, with Azula taking her trusted kunai and shoving them through Mai's dark eyes. Ty Lee follows, engulfed in a raging fireball, feeding off the agony of her screams.

And her mother, her beautiful, wonderful, tragic mother, her mother who stares at her with sad eyes and a limp smile on her face. Her mother dies with Azula's burning hands on her body, scorching her throat. There's a whisper of, _monster_ , and then her mother becomes a fiery column of all she's ever known and loved.

Azula collapses, face in her hands, deep sobs racking her body. _Why did you kill me?_ Voices say around her, voices of her brother and friends and mother. Ozai cackles somewhere in the distance, or is that her? 

_Why did you hurt us?_

_Azula, I love you._

_Azula, you hurt me._

Katara appears before her, a ragged corpse with a ruined chest, eyes blank, blood pouring from her mouth. Azula tries to scream, but she's frozen in terror, and the waterbender raises a hand. It's like all the blood in Azula's body seizes at once, yanking at every part of her body until she feels like she's being torn, limb from limb. It's only then, in the intensity of her pain, does she scream.

The waterbender's eyes narrow, and she leans in close enough for Azula to taste the rotting stench of her breath, feel the spatter of blood against her lips. The waterbender sneers, lifeless eyes freezing Azula in place, and her fist clenches. The pain is unbearable, searing throughout her body like a knife tearing into her, and her heart, stuttering and frantic, explodes.

She dies with a cry on her lips and the taste of blood in her mouth. Pain radiates throughout her body, and her eyesight dims. Her last image is the sight of a dead Katara hovering over her, a ruined heart in her hands.

 _Monster_ , the girl whispers. _Monster_.

She jerks to a start, sitting up in bed with a snap. Her hands fly to her chest, pain still spasming through her body, and touches with trembling fingers, to make sure it still beats.

It does.

She gasps, letting out the stunted breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her eyes narrow, sharp and unfocused, and she recalls the grip on her heart, crushing her bones, and the sharp, cruel glint in the waterbender's eyes.

How had she done that? The complete control of Azula's body, the crushing sense of fear settling on her soul, her inability to move, to fight, to _feel._ It was almost as if-

 _Blood._ Azula's eyes widen, and her fingers tighten their grip in the neckline of her flimsy tunic. Katara could bend the water inside a person's blood. It's the only thing that makes sense- the control of her body, the grip on her heart. 

Katara is a bloodbender.

The realization doesn't hit her hard, not in the way it probably should. No matter Azula's mental state, no matter the insanity, or the pain, or the darkness that consumed her thoughts, Azula is a firebenders and princess of the Fire Nation first. What was it her father always taught her? Control.

When the girl comes to visit, Azula is in her room again. The waterbender enters, sliding in as gracefully as the waves that lap at the beaches. The girl approaches, and Azula makes no move to acknowledge her.

"Azula," the girl says, settling down next to her on the couch. Her waterskin is uncorked, and Azula _doesn't_ flinch, but her body tenses up before her mind catches up. Sharp, golden eyes flick to meet blue, and the waterbender sits down in the seat across from the couch.

Silence is a poignant creature. Often, there's much to be said about the quiet, thick blankets of tension and unspoken truths hovering over lips like a breath. The waterbender watches Azula, and Azula watches the waterbender.

( _Filthy scum,_ Father would say. _Water tribe peasants, all of them.)_

Vaguely, she remembers her uncle, wise, meek, gentle Uncle Iroh. _You can learn a lot from the other cultures, children,_ he once told her and Zuko. _They are people of the sea and wind. So many secrets to unveil, if you're willing to dive down into the deep._

"Can I ask you something?" The waterbender says, and Azula looks up at her, meets those vivid blue eyes that see too much. There's a haunted look in those eyes, a look that has seen death and decay, has tasted the blood of enemies. Azula blinks, but doesn't respond. The girl can take that however way she likes.

"What was it like growing up?" The girl asks. She leans forward, hands on her knees, but Azula can feel the temperature in the room drop fractionally, like the girl is sucking the very moisture out of the air.

"Why," Azula asks, and her voice is raspy from misuse.

The waterbender blinks. "Sorry," she says, in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "I'm just trying to understand where you and Zuko come from."

"My brother is soft," Azula snaps, and she watches those ocean eyes freeze over. "He was never cut out for life in the palace. Softness is a weakness."

"You're wrong," the girl says, in a deathly quiet voice. The air drops again, and Azula pinpoints the icicles forming around the girl's wrists. "Your brother is the strongest person I know."

( _Weak!_ Her father seethes. _No son of mine would fail! He has no honor!)_

But did he? Azula can't help but wonder, can't help but think that maybe she's the one who lost her honor, throwing it away as carelessly as her father did his humanity.

Azula scoffs, and the waterbender stands, fists clenched and ice creeping slowly across the tabletop. For a brief moment, a cold sensation grips at Azula's heart, freezing her breath and sending a spike of _something_ zinging through her body, but it's gone in an instant. She looks up at the Water Tribe girl, a girl whose eyes reflect the night sky, and frowns.

"There's no point in talking to you," the girl seethes, and storms away. "I don't even know why I'm here." She whirls, freezing Azula in a flinty glare. "You're brother would move heaven and earth for you," she spits. "Think on that, before you speak so lowly of him. He's not the one who put you in this state."

Then she's gone, in a whirlwind of silk, and Azula bites her lip, letting the blood run down her chin. The scarlet suits her, she thinks, touching at her mouth, fingers coming away crimson. Matches her soul. Her chaotic, hazy, mad soul.

Later, when a guard comes by to drop off her dinner, there's a boy with her, a boy with dark hair and a blindfold covering his eyes. He's clearly not a bender, no firebender in their right mind would let flames do that to their face willingly.

(Zuko flashes across her subconscious, a boy with a bloody and ruined face, left eye sunken in, the skin distorted and inflamed. The crown prince of the Fire Nation, burned and disgraced. _You have dishonored us all_ , Father had told him. _Traitors get burned.)_

"You must be the princess Azula," the boy says, and the guard rolls his chair over to the couch. The boy smiles pleasantly, face turned in Azula's general direction, but doesn't make any inclination to bow his head, or offer his formal greetings.

(If Azula were herself, she might have slammed this boy's face into the ground, rip his blindfold off, and burn the memory of her face into more than just his ruined eyes. An imprint of fire upon his soul, burning her mark permanently into his brain. But there's a girl with blue eyes who stops her, a girl who can move blood and flood oceans. Katara the waterbender, the memory of the power she carries, and that silences the rage burning within her.)

Azula stays quiet. Silence is her friend these days. There's no sadness, no anxiety in silence, just the quiet surrender of complete and utter indifference.

The boy shrugs, turning his head in the direction of the window. "My name is Kai," the boy says, and Azula rolls her eyes. Another person, another name to throw over her shoulder. _Respect_ , she remembers. Respect is earned. He is just a boy to her, just as Katara is the waterbender.

Giving them names gives them a purpose, meaning in her life. She won't have that. She can't.

(Giving them a purpose means she loses. And she is not a loser. Losing means dishonor, and no child of Ozai's will be sent down the path of self-destruction.)

"I'm glad Katara healed you," the boy is saying, and the waterbender's name piques Azula's interest. She glances over to the boy, making no sounds that he's interested her, but the boy smirks, as if sensing her attention. "She was really conflicted on whether she should pull you out."

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

The boy grins, and this time, his smile is feral. He turns back to her, and she makes out the red veins streaking across his face, hiding behind the blindfold. "No," he agrees, reaching behind his head to undo the knot. "But you're going to get it anyway."

Azula has seen many gruesome things in her life. She's seen her brother's face half melted off, she's seen soldiers lose limbs to the enemy lines. A Water Tribe soldier with his arm ripped off and his guts hanging out of his torso, an Earth Kingdom child crushed under a Fire Nation tank.

These are the gruesome trophies of war. Things Azula has seen far too often to be surprised by, but even so, she can't help the widening of her eyes when she takes in the boy's face.

The veins streak across his cheeks, over his nose, across his forehead. His right eye is completely covered in melted skin, red and shiny, swollen and disfigured. The left eye is open, cloudy, unseeing, the eyebrow and eyelashes completely seared off. He would have been a beautiful man, but now, he's downright hideous.

"This happened to me in Ba Sing Se," the boy says, his left eye staring unseeingly into Azula's soul. "I was hit by exploding bombs, set off accidentally by the enemy. The heat of the explosion took my eyes from me, but what happened next was far worse. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, started hallucinating because of all the disrupted chi in my body. But Katara saved me, healed me and helped fix the chi so it could flow smoothly. That girl, despite everything this country has done to her, saved a Fire Nation soldier, and she continues to do so, every single day. There are those within these walls who still belittle her, attack her with words when violence isn't enough, and yet, she still stays strong."

Azula stares. "Why are you telling me this?" She finally asks, her jaw working furiously. 

The boy tilts his head, raising his hands and refastening the blindfold so it covers his ghastly wounds. "Why am I telling you this?" The boy ponders, biting his lip thoughtfully. "I guess it's because you miscalculated when you thought Katara was weak. I heard what you did, attacking her during the Agni Kai. Trying to kill her and take your brother out simultaneously." He leans forward, and Azula shrinks away, trying in vain to get away from those unseeing eyes. "Katara is the strongest person I know. She saved countless of us when we didn't deserve it. You attacked your brother, right in front of her, and tried to kill her, and yet here she is, bringing you back to life. I want you to think on that, the next time you try to attack her."

The boy pulls back, and the guard slips back into the room, wheeling him away from Azula. Before they get to the door, Azula calls out.

"Wait," she says, and the guard stops, the boy's head turning fractionally in her direction. "She's a bloodbender, you know. She can control people. Aren't you the slightest bit scared?"

( _Good, Azula,_ Father croons. _Strike fear in your enemies hearts, turn them their hearts black and make them destroy each other. That's my girl, my little fire demon.)_

The boy smirks, startling Azula. "I know," he says, and turns his head. "But she's not a monster. She's a good person. That's the difference between you and her; you've both touched the light and dark of your bending, but she chooses the light, while you fade to the dark."

Azula gapes, and the guard wheels the boy away, the door closing behind them. Azula stares at the place where the boy had been sitting, the image of his burnt and melted face seared into her mind.

It had been an accident, the boy had said. The enemy accidentally triggered their own bombs, and he'd been caught in the aftermath. Azula thinks of another boy, with another burn across his face, but not by an accident, but with hateful purpose.

( _Love is weak!_ Father would say. _Your brother loved the nonbenders.That makes him weak, makes him a disgrace. And a disgrace, to me, is treason. Traitors have no place in my country.)_

But is it true? She thinks about the boy, the boy named Kai, the one who loves the waterbender with all his heart. The girl who her father would loathe, despise, and destroy. Then she thinks about her brother, the one who her father called dishonorable and branded him a traitor. Her father would have all called them weak, but Azula's fragile beliefs are beginning to crumble.

If Zuko were weak, he wouldn't be the Firelord, Azula would. But he is, and Azula isn't deaf, she hears the rumors. The people of the Fire Nation love him, and they love Katara for saving their prince. Azula is a ghost, a shadow, a stain on the honor of the Fire Nation in the eyes of the people.

This is what Azula knows. She knows her father believes love and fear are weaknesses of the human psyche, weaknesses meant to be exploited and destroyed. He did it with Ursa, he did it with Azulon, and he did it with Zuko. But there are cracks in his beliefs, cracks in Azula's beliefs. Cracks in the form of the love of a people for her brother, cracks in the form of a girl with blue blue eyes who can bend blood and water. Father's beliefs are what Azula has always known, but what Azula knows and believes don't really matter anymore.

~0~

The next time the waterbender comes, Azula is standing by the window, cup of tea in her hand. She hears the door open, smells the subtle scent of ocean water in the air, feels the telltale coldness that comes with encountering the last waterbender of the South, but the girl doesn't say anything. Azula lets the silence drag on, until she finally turns, quirking an eyebrow at the girl's direction.

"Waterbender," she says, and Katara frowns.

"Azula."

Azula snorts, settling down on the couch, and Katara does the same. It's a routine they have, this uneasy stalemate of distrust, but it is a routine nonetheless. Her father would have a fit if he caught her fraternizing with a Water Tribe peasant, but Azula can't find it in her heart to care anymore. There are a lot of things her father has told her, has shown her, made her _believe,_ but her father is no longer here, and learning to live without his shadow is something that gets easier day by day.

(His shade lingers, forevermore, in the shallow crevices he scored into her heart. The first, for being born a girl. The second, for being less than perfect, even when she was. There's one for the loss of her mother, another for Zuko, no, _several_ for Zuko. These are the cracks the remnants of her father linger in, forever trying to worm their way back into her thoughts and poison her heart. But if Zuko survived their father, and if Katara survived the war, she can surmount this. After all, she isn't a loser.)

Azula looks at the waterbender and wonders how she does it, how she can go through her days as if nothing ever happened. The girl can hide it all she wants, but Azula knows the dark look lingering in the blue of her eyes. It's the look you get once you've tasted blood, once you've held a life in your hands and crushed it between your fingers.

( _Kill it,_ Father told her, holding a baby sparrowkeet with a broken wing. _Take it's life.)_

Her first kill, an innocent creature, torn from life because of her father's greed, his desperation. To create a creature as depraved as himself. The terror in her childhood life, remembering the bruises blossoming over her eight year old brother's cheeks, and the disgusting crunch of the bird's neck in her fingers. _Good girl,_ Father had said. _I'm proud of you._

Later, scores of Earth Kingdom soldiers falling to the heat of her flames. A general, collapsing in a torrent of electricity, children dying by the thousands due to her orders. The screams of Ba Sing Be pounding out Azula's death melody forever in her head.

Katara is a girl who has killed, that much Azula knows. Her powers of perception can see that as easily as the badgermole burrows. The shadows in her eyes, the darkness that seems to weigh at her shoulders. But there's something about the girl that Azula cannot place, how she can continue living life without the toll on her mind, how the ghosts of her wrongdoings don't weigh on her like they do Azula.

"Do you see them?"

Katara startles, blinking, and asks what Azula is talking about. “The people you killed,” Azula clarifies, and the air in the room drops several degrees. Azula feels her blood chill, and looking at Katara, so does the waterbender's. “Do you see them in your dreams?”

The waterbender pauses, and Azula can see the conflict swimming in her soul. But the girl startles Azula, opening up about her past. The war follows her, just like it does Azula.

“I understand,” Azula says, and she feels the slightest tinge of respect for the waterbender in this moment. She didn't need to be vulnerable, especially to the girl who tried to kill her, but she did. Kai's words ring in her mind. _She's the strongest person I know. "_ The darkness, at least. It seeps into your bones and clogs your mind, whispering in your ear and making you catch your breath. Before my father became Firelord, Zu-Zu and I were close, as close as siblings could be. You understand.”

She sees the affirmation in the waterbender's eyes, and shrugs, turning away, drowning in her memories once more.

"Ozai always pushed us, way harder than he should," Azula recalls, remembering the bruises painting Zuko's skin and the tremor in her bones at his baleful gaze. Azula doesn't know why she's engaging with the waterbender, but there's something about the similarities they possess that tugs at her consciousness. That maybe, somehow, they are mirrors of each other, reflecting their darkest moments in this fleeting distrust. 

"When he realized that Zu-Zu wasn’t going to be the prodigy our father wanted him to be, he turned his attention to me. Ozai was a deranged man, but pleasing him brought me pride and compliments. With Zuko, it brought punishment and disgrace. So I fought hard, and worked harder, to make myself into a warrior Ozai would love, and wouldn’t punish.” Azula’s eyes soften, remembering how it felt to go to bed with her father's praise ringing in her ears, a full stomach and clear skin. Then her thoughts turn to Zuko, who always went to bed hungry and bleeding, crying out in pain. “I deluded myself into thinking that killing for my father meant I earned his love and respect, when all it really meant was saving me from punishment. I left that to my brother.”

( _Why doesn't Father love me?_ Ten year old Zuko asked her, blood running down his temple. _Because love is a weakness, Zu-Zu,_ she had said in response, partly grateful that she pleased Father enough to withstand the torture, partly horrified at her brother's condition, and partly pleased at his pain. That's the part that Ozai created, the monster within Azula that feeds off of pain.)

The waterbender frowns at Azula's words. She tells Azula that Zuko loves her, far more than he should, and goes on to tell her how her brother suffered night and day to try and salvage her ruined soul, how all he wanted was to help her. Azula isn't fazed by this, and the part of her that is her father whisper, _Zuko is weak. Only the weak linger on what could have been. Are you weak, my little fire demon?_

"Others would have left you to rot," the waterbender finishes, and that makes Azula frown.

“Like you?”

That silences the waterbender, and Azula observes her, much like Katara does her. There's a sadness pooling in Katara's eyes, the waterbender's gaze filling with storm clouds, reflecting Azula's heart. Finally she speaks, and Azula doesn't know whether to feel relieved or angry when the girl whispers, “You were going to kill me, Azula. You almost killed your brother. You hunted my friends and I across the Earth Kingdom. I would have had every right to leave you to rot in the dungeons.”

“So why didn’t you?” Azula asks, gentle, probing. It's the softest she's ever been in her life, and Ozai would have burned her alive, but it doesn't matter. It's Katara standing in front of her, the waterbender who destroyed and saved her life, not her father.

The waterbender's eyes harden, and Azula is reminded of the icicles flying through the air during the Agni Kai. “Because I saw the look in Zuko’s eyes," the waterbender says firmly. I saw how sad he was at the thought of losing another family member. I know what that feels like, to love and lose someone to this war. I wasn’t going to put him through that pain again.”

And there it is. Everything Azula needs to know. The waterbender may not know it herself, but Azula can see it as clear as day. She's heard the rumors, knows what the guards whisper about the Firelord and his waterbender. It all makes sense now, why exactly this waterbending girl saved her life.

She loves Zuko. She may not know it now, but it's written plainly across her face. Just like the time Mai let Zuko go at the Boiling Rock. _You miscalculated_ , the noblewoman had said. _I love Zuko, more than I fear you._

 _"_ There it is," is what she says, and watches the anger pool in the waterbender's eyes, the confusion and anxiety swirling around in those deep blue depths. Azula smiles. "If you can't see it for yourself, then there is no use trying to explain it to you now. You’ll figure it out, soon enough, little waterbender.”

The waterbender huffs, turning around and storming away. Azula calls to her as she leaves, “You and my brother have a lot more in common than you think. Ponder that- you may as well be each other’s salvation.”

Father would murder her for extending the olive branch to the girl, but as the door closes and the waterbender leaves, Azula can't help but feel the slightest bit of satisfaction. There's hatred in her heart, deep set and fierce, put there by him, and it's hatred in the form of a girl with deep blue eyes and ice at her fingertips. But that same girl is in love with Azula's brother, who somehow saw good in her, even at her worst. 

Azula may be a monster, but nothing can destroy the love she has for her brother. _Love is a weakness_ , Father would say. She narrows her eyes.

_Fuck the weakness._

~0~

The waterbender is in love with her brother. The girl hasn't outright spoken out about it yet, but Azula isn't stupid. She may have lost her crown, and her family, and her ability to fight, but she still has her eyes, still has her ears. Azula learned to observe the world around her far before she learned what taking a life felt like. 

The men guarding her door whisper of the love blossoming between the waterbender of the South Pole and the Firelord. They say she's already earned the love of the people, and that the nobles fear her, fear the anger that blooms within her eyes, anger for justice, and for those who lost everything.

(They say Zuko is going to marry that girl someday. She's the Ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe, daughter of the Chieftain and therefore royalty in her own right. She's the girl who saved the life of the Crown Prince and the insane princess, the keeper of the crown. They say Zuko is in love with her, and that she's going to be the best Firelady the world has ever seen.)

The patients talk about her kind voice and gentle hands, the way she cares for everyone. Some of them, the more disgruntled, war torn and battle hungry, claim she is a witch, a peasant, a slut worming her way into power by spreading her legs for the crown. Azula drowns them out, because no matter what they say, she knows what power hunger people want, what they look like. They look like General Zhao, like Ruon-Jian and Chan, like her father. But the waterbender? A veteran of the war, with blood on her hands and a shadow covering her eyes, yes, but a slut? No.

Azula watches the waterbender when she visits, her sharp eyes following the girl's every move. She doesn't dare try to firebend when the girl is here anymore, not because she's _scared,_ but because there's no point. Azula might not like the waterbender, despise her even, but grudgingly, she has to admit, the girl saved her life. So she watches, and observes, and follows the lessons her father taught her.

The waterbender has almost no weakness that Azula can see. The girl is slower than Azula, yes, but she makes up for it in grace, her movements fluid and precise. She carries herself nobly, well balanced, compared to Zuko, who would have tripped several times after stepping through the door. Her bending is on par with Azula, _clearly_ the girl is a prodigy of her element, just like Azula is with hers. 

The girl studies Azula too, watches her with those carefully guarded eyes that see too much, know too much. Azula can see into the girl's soul, but she knows the waterbender can see just as clearly into her own. 

"Where's Zu-Zu," Azula asks every time the waterbender visits, and each time the girl shrugs and tells her _not today._ It makes Azula's heart hurt more than it should, but no less than she deserves. 

The waterbender sits in her usual spot, blinking at the second cup of tea sitting there. Her icy eyes flick over to where Azula sits, who looks away, reaching for her own cup. The waterbender smiles, taking hers, and compliments the flavor.

The silence returns, and Azula takes up her usual mantle of studying the girl. There's a light aura surrounding her today, her shoulders looser, the darkness receding from her eyes. The conflict is still there, and Azula knows all too well how the darkness hovers, seeking to slip through the cracks of your armor and curl in your heart once more.

"He wants to come," is what the girl says to her. "He just doesn't know how."

Azula won't let her know how much this hurts. She knows the pain she caused, years and years of emotional trauma and hardship, beaten into his skin and brain, and knows why he can't see her. But it hurts more than she realized, the understanding that she is a monster, and not even the best of them could bear to see her.

Oddly enough, it's Kai she finds the most comfort in. The guards let her out of the room more often than not, and she often finds herself in the courtyard, sitting next to the blinded boy.

"You're different," he tells her.

"I grew up."

The boy, no Kai, laughs. He's earned the right to be called his name. Defending the waterbender's honor earned him Azula's respect.

(Maybe because it reminds her of what could have been. A time when a younger Azula would have stood up for her older brother. Two faces scarred, instead of one, united before a common enemy.)

"You took my advice," Kai says, and Azula glances at him. He's got this wistful smile on his face, turned in her general direction, but Azula has a feeling he can see her, even though blind. "What changed?"

"She's like me," Azula says, after a moment of silence. "She's known the darkness, but rose above it." Her fist clenches, and a little wisp of Father whispers, _traitor,_ but it doesn't sting like it used to. "I need to be better."

_Better than the monster I've become._

Kai smiles, and he reaches out tentatively, groping around until he finds her hand. Azula stares, observing his mottled and discolored flesh, fingers twining through her own. In another time, another life, she would have broken this hand, snarled _peasant_ in his face, and blasted him with fire for even touching the princess. It's a life her father drilled into, a life her father molded, forming a monster from a little girl who didn't know any better.

It's a life better left in the past.

"You already are," Kai says, and the smile on his face is genuine. His hand tightens in hers, and a strange sense of peace settles over Azula's shoulders. It's the first she's felt in her entire life, sitting in a prison that feels more like a home than the palace did. Sitting with a boy, with blood flowing through her veins thanks to a young girl wreathed in the powers of the ocean.

~0~

The waterbender disappears for a few weeks, leaving Azula restless. Without her presence, it's easy for Azula to fall back to the days before, her father's words tugging harshly at her heart.

 _Love is a weakness,_ he tells her, and she can picture his fierce eyes boring into hers, the heat of his hands burning prints into her throat. 

But Azula remembers the look in the waterbender's eyes, confessing the near-kiss after the spring festival. The waterbender's eyes were clear of pain, clear of the darkness for once, the love she feel's for Zuko strong enough to hold it at bay. Azula can't help but think on her Father's mantras, _love is weakness_ , and disagree. Because if the strongest thing in the world, darkness and hatred, can be driven away by this mere little thing called love, then maybe he's wrong.

Love isn't a weakness, she can't help but believe. It is love that kept Zuko alive, love that kept her alive, love that kept them all alive. Darkness lives in their souls, but the love Katara holds for Zuko and the love Zuko holds for Azula keeps them afloat. It's the only thing that makes sense.

It can't be a weakness. It must be the strongest thing in the world, if it's the only thing keeping Azula clinging to life.

Later, she gets the news through Kai. "There was an assassination attempt," is what she hears through the heaving gasps. His blindfold is off, torn away in the panic, and Azula thinks she sees some semblance of tears forming in that ruined left eye of his.

(A testament of how strong love is, how the bonds tying you to others can outlast. A boy, with his face burned away and tear ducts seared, finds the tears to shed for a girl made of water.)

 _Love is a weakness_ , Father would say. But yet, here is this boy, incapacitated beyond belief, shedding tears when before he was incapable to do so. A feeling that strong, capable of making the impossible reality. There's no denying it.

Love is strength.

The story is given to her by the guard. A group of assassins, intent on taking Zuko down and reinstating their father as Firelord. Sneaking into the rooms of her brother's closest advisor and best friend. How the waterbender used her bending to crush an assassin's heart, but not before getting injured and poisoned. 

Kai tells her that some of the assassins fled, but were turning up dead in alleyways thanks to the vigilante known as the Blue Spirit. Azula knows it Zuko, knows it without even needing to use her powers of perception.

(Only fools in love would dare death in order to seek justice. And Zuko is the biggest fool of them all.)

When Katara does finally visit, she looks different. There are shadows under her eyes, darkness pooling in those blue blue eyes that see too much. She settles down next to Azula on the couch, not speaking, and stares off into the distance.

"Congratulations," Azula says dryly, and the waterbender looks at her with those dead eyes. "Your first assassination attempt. I heard it went well."

The waterbender's hand rises to her throat, and Azula sees the raised, jagged line slicing across her skin. Another scar, another token of war. 

It's quiet. Silence has always been a companionable presence when the Water Tribe girl visits, but now, Azula finds it too stifling, like she's drowning in a room filled with oxygen. 

(Maybe because this girl is strong, always has been, and is the reason why Azula can keep it together, keep going. And maybe Azula cannot bear to see her as anything else.)

"My first also ended in bloodshed," Azula offers, and the waterbender looks at her. Quiet, but attentive. "It was an Earth Kingdom assassin, from Ba Sing Se. Snuck into my rooms when I was asleep, much like you."

"How'd you do it?" The waterbender asks.

"Firewhip to the throat," Azula recalls, remembering the man's screams of agony, the smell of burned flesh permeating her sense, blue flames billowing up towards the sky. "I was eight years old."

A distraught mother, a panicked brother. But the memory at the forefront of Azula's brain is that of her father, looking at the scorched body lying on her rug, then looking at her with a gleam in his eyes. _Well done,_ Father had told her. _My little prodigy. I'm so proud._

The light returns to the waterbender's eyes, and she cautiously reaches out, placing her hand on Azula's. It makes her stop, catch her breath, blink in shock, but she doesn't pull her hand out from the waterbender's.

(Maybe because it's soothing, this girl's presence. A girl who destroyed her life and healed it all in one breath, a girl who despises her, yet somehow sees something worth salvaging. Maybe because this waterbender has become the beacon of hope in Azula's life, and clinging to it, even for a brief moment, is enough for her to keep going.)

"I'm sorry," the waterbender murmurs, and then she pulls away. "It must have been difficult."

Azula shrugs, turning away from the blue of the waterbender's eyes. "The nightmares were terrible," she confesses. "There was blood on my hands where I scrubbed them raw. I couldn't sleep in my bed for weeks."

"How'd you manage it?"

"Zu-Zu helped," Azula replies, picking at the dirt in her cuticles. "He let me sleep in his bed the first few nights, always made sure there was a candle lit in my room before bed. I don't know why he did it, especially since I treated him so badly."

"He loves you," the waterbender points out. "That's the thing about your brother, no matter the pain people have caused him, he still loves them, and that's what makes him strong."

Azula turns, studying the waterbender with the scars and the bright blue eyes. "And you?" She asks. "Do you love him?" 

The waterbender coughs. "It's a bit complicated," she says. "But your brother is the most important person in my life. I don't know what I'd do without him."

"What happened?" Azula asks, and the waterbender frowns. "After you defeated me. What happened to Zuko?"

The darkness returns to the waterbender's eyes, but she looks wistful, biting her lip, hands fiddling with nothing in her lap. "It was bad," she says. "Zuko was down for weeks. I was afraid he would never wake up."

A twinge of guilt surges through Azula's veins. That's what she did to her brother. Not just a starburst across his chest, but weeks and weeks of lying in pain, half-dead, all thanks to her.

"I had to remake all of his organs," the waterbender murmurs, and Azula's blood runs cold. "The lightning fried a lot of his veins, which killed off the supply of oxygen and nutrients to his heart and lungs. He almost stopped breathing at one point."

A part of Azula's screams for her to put an end to this. She almost can't take it, hearing the amount and devastation she wrecked on a young man's tender and open heart, but she stops herself from silencing the waterbender. It's what she deserves.

"It took a long time, and many sleepless nights before Zuko was out of the woods," the waterbender continues. "Healing in itself is pretty simple, focuses on opening chi pathways and untangling any damage so it flows better. Your brother's chi pathways were very convoluted and disfigured due to the lightning, but eventually, I was able to fix it, let his chi replenish his blood and invigorate his organs. He survived, thanks to me."

Azula blinks. "And me?" She asks, finally asking the question she'd been avoiding for so long. "How'd you heal me?" 

The waterbender studies her, eyes probing at the little facets of Azula's soul, delving in deep. "You were..." The waterbender trails off, frowning deep in thought. "You were difficult. It was hard to get a grasp as what was wrong, minds are a tricky thing to heal. In fact, I'm not quite sure how I did it to be honest. One day you were nothing but a husk of skin, the next, I felt the flutter of life inside you. Eventually, I was able to heal the mass of distorted chi in your mind, and that's about it. You know the rest."

Uncle Iroh once said that the people of the Water Tribe were ones made from the sea and ice, filled with secrets, if you were willing to dive past the depths of the known. It's the truth, she realizes now, her uncle's words sinking deep into her bones. 

She's finding out more and more about the waterbender with every waking moment. She grew up believing the words of her father, that the people of the Water Tribes were a wild folk, as savage as the ice surrounding their homes, ancient, untamed. But this girl sitting before her is the exact opposite. The last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe is a deadly weapon of her people, but she's gentle, noble, with a heart that burns like the fires of Azula's people. A waterbender who wields her bending as a sword and touches people with a healing hand.

She didn't have to heal Azula. But she did, because even though there are shadows on her soul, the waterbender is a kind person. She helped the Avatar save the world, healed the Firelord's heart, and pulled Azula from the brink of madness. All because of the gentle blood that runs through her veins. 

Azula licks her lips. "Do you think...," She begins, and the waterbender blinks, regarding her with those calm eyes. "Do you think, if the world had been different, we could have been friends?"

The waterbender's eyes widen, surprise sweeping in like a summer flood, and her mouth opens in a silent _oh._ Azula frowns, studying a point off to the side, but her skills of observation keep the waterbender in her sights.

"I don't normally dream about what ifs," the waterbender finally says. "And I still don't fully forgive you for putting me and Zuko through that trauma." Azula sighs in understanding, but the waterbender reaches out, placing her hand carefully back on Azula's once more. When he meets her eyes, blue boring into gold, Azula finds no decit, no hatred, no anger, just deep blue filled with kindness. "But I'd like to think that maybe, in another life, we could have been." 

It's quiet, but the silence has returned to it's pure form, and Azula breathes easily. She and the waterbender may never be friends, but there's a change in the air between them.

Katara of the Southern Water Tribe saved her life, you see. She didn't have to, but if there's anything she's learned of the waterbending prodigy, it's that Katara is a girl born of ice and rain, with a gentle heart that burns with the flames of the Fire Nation. She is a waterbender, but she's Zuko's best friend and Azula's savior. She's earned Azula's respect, and Azula will never call her anything but her name ever again.

~0~

Her brother visits for the first time in months, and Azula cries. _The two of you belong together_ , is what she says, because she knows Katara is watching, and she doesn't miss the waterbender's answer of _yes._

Her brother tells her he's going to marry Katara. "I'm not asking for your permission," he tells her, but Azula takes his hand, pulls him close. 

"You don't need it," is what she says. "You and I both know the answer."

He hugs her close, burying his face in her neck, and she breathes in the familiar scent of incense and smoke on his skin. The crown glints in his hair, and Azula thinks it fits him perfectly. Not their monster of a father, not the mess she is. The crown was made for Zuko, and Zuko was born to be a leader.

The tears drip down her face. _Love isn't a weakness_ , she thinks. And then, in that moment, she realizes one thing.

Her father's shadow is no longer there.

~0~

Katara is studying her carefully, but Azula can see the anxiety in those deep blue eyes, see the tension in her shoulders, the harsh pout of her mouth. Azula smiles, turning the crown over in her hands, studying it carefully.

It's a crown made out of Fire Opals. They're incredibly rare stones; the last time Azula saw rocks of these qualities was a ring on her grandfather's finger as he was cremated. _Only Zuko_ , she thinks, looking up at Katara, the necklace around her throat ringed in a sea of gold and red. _Only Zuko would do the impossible for the girl he loves._

"It's beautiful," she tells Katara, giving the crown back. "A crown fit for a Firelady."

The anxiety doesn't bleed from Katara's eyes, that much Azula can see. The girl pouts, biting her lips, fingering the edges of her robes, and looks at Azula. "I'm scared," is what she says. Scared of so many things, but being good for the nation and Zuko is top on the list.

Azula would like to tell Katara that she's the sun to Zuko, to her people. That somehow, despite the darkness in her own soul, she's able to reach into the cruelest of hearts and pull the human back into them. That she shouldn't ever aim to be an ideal, because that's what creates monsters, what turned a little firebending child into a creature of madness. 

(Azula has been alive for the last several months, seen winter and spring and summer arrive with new eyes. In this entire time, she has not once stopped her observations that her father drilled into her, and these are the things about Katara she knows to be true.)

Instead of saying what's on her mind, because that's not what Katara needs, Azula says this: "You can’t be a perfect Firelady." This makes Katara frown, but Azula presses on. "You're a girl from the Water Tribes. You’ll never be a perfect Firelady, that would require you to be something you’re not. But you can be something better.”

Katara is quiet, but Azula can see the waterbender weighing her words carefully, letting them sink under her skin and harden like armor. “You can be you,” Azula says. "You could never be a traditional Firelady. Zuko wouldn't have chosen you if he wanted that. He chose you because he knows you can change the Fire Nation. I know this because you'll do whatever it takes."

These are the things Azula knows, narrowed down by her powers of perception that she's honed since childhood. This is her mother, her poor, tragic mother, who lost her life trying to protect her family. This is Zuko, her beautiful, brave brother, with bruises on his soul and scars on his body. This is her father, Ozai, a man who painted tragedy on her brother's face and turned her into a creature of chaos.

But this is Katara, a smooth ocean wave, bringing the smell of salt and wind and a storm of change. This is Katara with ice in her eyes and blood at her command. This is the girl who wreathed her brother's heart in armour of ice, who pulled her mind out of the depths of depravity with a single touch. This is a girl of the Water Tribe with the strength and honor of ten thousand countries.

Katara gives her a tight lipped smile and a quiet _thank you_ as she departs. Later, when she's in the courtyard with Kai, and news of the upcoming wedding begins to spread, Kai slips his hand into hers and squeezes.

"You okay?" He asks, face turned in her direction. Azula studies him, tracing the veins coursing over his face like little red rivers, the blindfold covering his scars. 

"Yeah," she says, leaning forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. His skin twitches under her touch, the feel of his pulse fluttering like a baby bird, and she feels the heat of his body flare up at her proximity. She pulls away, brings their hands up to her lips so he can feel her smile. "I'm happy."

It's the first of many truths in days to come. And later, when the years have passed and Kai and Zuko and Katara have passed on, when Azula sits in her room, feeling age creeping up on her, later, when Zuko's grandchildren come to visit and ask her what she thought of Firelady Katara, it's all Azula can do but smile.

"She saved my life." 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me about my fics [here](https://markedmage.tumblr.com/ask)


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